Me: Good night, biker boy ♥?
I set the phone face-down on my chest, still smiling.
Psycho settles against my side. Menace kneads my stomach like he’s claiming me back. “Relax,” I tell them softly. “He’s not a threat.” They purr anyway.
“Bitch,”Lena says the second I answer, “why haven’t I heard from you in over twenty-four hours?”
I laugh, already shaking my head. God, I love her. “Do you remember that biker from Jake’s the other night?”
“Yessss,” she drawls. “Why? Did you have hot biker sex and not tell me?”
That sets me off again. “Psssh. I wish. But…”
“But what?” she demands. “Why are you dragging this out? Spill the tea, Savannah.”
“Okay, okay,” I say, laughing. “Jesus. So we made a bet that night. If our team won, I got to pick his tattoo. If they won, he got to pick mine. And you know we won.”
“Uh-huh,” she says. “This is the boring part. Fast-forward.”
“I gave him my number,” I continue. “He texted me that night, and let’s just say… the man knows how to text.”
“Shut up,” she gasps. “Did he send you a dick pic?”
I’m laughing so hard I have to wipe at my eyes. “No. No dick pics.”
“Disappointing.”
“But,” I add, “I did get a picture of his abs. And they were… delicious.”
A beat.
“We sexted,” I admit.
Silence.
Then, “No you didn’t. People don’t do that anymore.”
“Fuck you,” I say. “Yes, we did.”
“Show me,” she demands immediately.
“Absolutely not.”
“You’re no fun,” she says. “Is that it?”
“No,” I say, smiling like an idiot. “That’s not it, you little shit. We met up yesterday. He got the tattoo I picked out, and oh my God, it was his first tattoo.”
“What did you pick?” she asks, suddenly very serious.
“He keeps calling me Firecracker,” I say. “So I had Cole put a flame on his arm.”
I sigh dreamily. “It somehow made him even hotter.”
Lena lets out a low whistle. “Yeah… you’re doomed.”
“And then,” I say, pacing my living room because sitting feels impossible, “after the tattoo, he takes me for a ride on his bike.”
Lena makes a noise. “Of course he did.”
